Video Killed the Radio Star
by Muffin Is Injured
Summary: God, this website really hates me, huh? Anyways, third time's the charm... rereposted. What if The Fundamental Things Apply aka movie night took a different turn? And no, I'm not talking about the lost love between Rory and Trevor. JavaJunkie. CompLETE.
1. Are You Pregnant?

**NEWEST NEW NOTE ADDED 7/22/05**

Boy, this website really hates me, doesn't it?

**NEW NOTE ADDED 7/2/05**

**BUT THEN EDITED ON 7/10/04 BECAUSE I'M A MEAN CONCLUSION-JUMPING-TO AND TERRIBLE PERSON**

5:36- I go to check my reviews for this story and it's not there. Naturally I am slightly confused. Is the URL messed up?

5:37- I go around the website attempting to find it.

5:38- I go to my login. The story is gone. Not there.

5:39- I begin to hyperventilate.

5:40- I begin to talk to myself, saying I should calm down. I go to the original document, still hyperventilating. I open said document.

5:41- I download said document. I begin to add apologetic author's note so as not to confuse people hearing from new story that they have already read.

5:44- I am about to post chapter, thinking "Wow, what a big screw up the website made," when I have an epiphony. I swear to myself repeatedly as I check my mail. I recieve this from FanFiction Admin.

_Muffin Is Injured,_

_Title: "Video Killed the Radio Star"_

_Summary: "The question on all of our minds... what if The Fundamental _

_Things Apply, aka Movie Night, took a different turn? .wiggles eyebrows _

_suggestively. And no, I'm not talking about the lost love between Rory _

_and Trevor. JavaJunkie."_

_Rating: "Fiction Rated: K+"_

_Main reason for removal: "Non-story: lists, notes, polls, announcement, _

_and etc"_

_The above story has been removed because it violated the guideline _

_detailed on the upload page. _

_This infraction has been recorded and once you reach a certain limit, _

_your account be automatically banned. Moreover, as a result of this _

_infraction, you will not have upload access for a period of time._

5:46- Continue swearing to myself.

It's NOT Anon's fault! Much groveling has already been done on that subject. I still don't know what happened. But ah, we are just pawns in the chess game of life. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but it sounds pretty damn cool, doesn't it?

* * *

Aaaah, there's nothing like the smell of a fresh fic in the morning!

I'm here, and lemme tell you, folks, it is GREAT to be back. (Right now I'm acting like Shel the poultry guy, if you can't see me. Hmm, if you could, that would be creepy… okay, I've freaked myself out so I'm stopping there.) I loved reading all the reviews from the last chapter of my last fic- you guys are so fantaburiffic that I has to make up that word right there to describe your fantaburifficosity.

Hey, did you know that each of my fics have their own song? For Thank the Cavemen it's I Eat Cannibals- you remember all that debate, don't you? And you're lacking a few phosphates if you can't guess the song for Safety Dance. Not the 'because nothing says refreshment like a phosphate' kind of phosphate, the DNA kind. You know, base, sugar, phosphate. I think of you, my beloved reviewers, whenever I hear them. I actually made them their own playlist on iTunes. A two-song list. Each song has played about 40 times already and my family is complaining. "You're listening to I Eat Cannibals? Didn't we just listen to that?... I swear, I've heard this song, like, 20 times." Me: 'Oh, have you? Interesting.' I'm crazy so shut up. That's my favorite excuse. And now, try and figure out my new song. Come on, just guess.

I feel experienced! Third's the charm!

So, shout outs to those to which I promised shout outs… Some of you I didn't promise, I just felt you deserved it, what with all your rambling…

**L/L r Lobsters**: Here I am, mentioning you…and you're first! Special Alert! Yeah, it was a lot shorter than Safety Dance but I didn't mean for it to be that way… it's just, Safety Dance was all set up for me, with dancing and the beginning and stuff. I actually think I like Safety Dance better, but I love the last chapter for Thank the Cavemen. My fourth grade teacher used to be OBSESSED with my writing. She was kind of weird in that respect. I used to be completely obsessed with Harry Potter. But I'm not anymore. I still like it, though; I want the new book. That's so weird about the 'every episode' thing because I was thinking about doing the same thing! I mean, not planning or even doing, it just crossed my mind. Review when it's not hard anymore, okay? Hehe.

**Lenina Crowne: **I squealed a lot while reading your review. I blame that on you. Ha, I've converted you to a rambler! I have that power over people. I've forced many people into chairs with duct tape and forced them to watch Gilmore Girls until they appreciated it. Not that it takes long because of Gilmore's amazingness. Watch me convert you all until the world belongs to me! And **Izzpuppy**, I told her I'd share. (seeee below not that you will I just wanted to write that it sounds cool doesn't it like I have a life filled with other people look at me no punctuation I'm irritating myself now I will stop)

**Lukelainroryndean: **I love writing that crrrrazy town. Hehe, I'm glad you love the title. It makes me feel pretty intellectual. I can't believe I'm the only person you write long reviews for! Keep it that way. I'm selfish. You are now my property. But not in a dirty, submissive kind of way. I'm not like that. Hmm, billions? Who knew my rambling would give me such expensive props?

**Rusty Bedsprings: **I actually added that line "God, I wish I had your thighs" in as an afterthought but I love it too! And how was that wedding, huh? Scott Patterson there? Didja hit on him? Huh? Huh? Did the bride run away at the alter like in…Runaway Bride? Well, there's a redundant reference for you. It's like Boy Meets World. "The killer is one of us! It's just like the movie…_The Killer is One of Us._" Your review, sadly, isn't even close to being the longest. It's okay, I'll let you stay in denial. Well, I guess not.

**Gidget89: **I love making people fall of chairs because of my incredible wit. I love hearing that, it makes me crack up. When you told me that thing about echoless duck quacks I went around telling everyone on my buddy list DUCKS DON'T ECHO!. Don't give up the dream, you might get first one of these days. Well, I'll give you your own little title just in case. You can be…the Most Likely to be Blessed by a Rabbi. I love ya, babe, stay kosher.

**Izzpuppy:** I started cracking up when I read your review. I love freakishly alike people! I'm usually too scared to tell someone we're freakishly alike, though, because then I'm scared they'll think I'm a stalker or a wannabe or something… But I love you for it! We should get right on that world-ruling. I'll take Europe and Asia, you can do America and Antarctica, and we'll team up on the random other islands. I talk really fast too. I mean, you can't really tell because I'm online but I seem like the kind of person that talks fast, don't I? Well, I am, if you're a skeptic. I love saying 'Dirty' too… although, hey, who doesn't? Gilmore Goddess…hmm…I like that. I just checked your profile- why don't you have a bio thing? And hehe, I'm a favorite author. You like it long, eh? Dirty! I don't think you're a stalker. I love people worshipping me. Please, do it some more. That sounds dirty too. And stuck-up. But seriously, what person hates people telling them they're amazing? –sigh- I know people just can't help themselves around me and my brilliance.

**Totaltvjunkie:** Yeah, forget going to the gym, just read my fics! You druggie you…I'm the dealer AND the drug… funny aint it? I don't really research the location of insane asylums so I'm not the person to ask. And about the hitting my face on the computer. You have never hit your face on one because you are just not as SKILLED as me, my friend! I'm on a laptop, and I was sitting on the couch with it on my –gasp- lap, and then I moved forward to get the remote or something (I was actually watching Raincoats and Recipes at the time) and my legs moved the computer and the corner smacked me in the tooth. I'm graceful that way.

**Epona9009: **I loved writing the pajama-attack scene. And I am doing another What in the World if? fic.. right now. You are reading it. I feel like I should say more because your review was so long, but really, the rest is just something I read and then nod in approval. So… -nods in approvals several times- There we go.

Oh yeah- **StephieM**, loquacious means… go find a dictionary, you lazy bum. I mean, you're on the internet, at least use an online one. Ha. I slay myself at times.

**Cheesey Honey Cookie Sweetie: **Babe! Where are you? Slipping from pissed into concerned mode. Good thing I aint lactose intolerant.

_**Sorry for all those first-timers for my fics. Get used to the rambles.**_

So, **this fic**. It's another What in the World If? fic (shock, horror, surprise) and it's from The Fundamental Things Apply, 4-05 (aka **Movie Night** to all you less-obsessive…pish, I blow my nose at you! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!). See, this is the question that is has been on all of our minds. It keeps us awake at night; we toss and turn in the sheets, sweating with fear, wondering. What would have happened if the night took a different turn? We can only fantasize, and, now, read this.

And no, I'm not talking about the lost love between Rory and Trevor.

Oh yeah, **disclaimer**. Since I've tortured you too long with my untamed wit, I'll make it short and sweet. **Not mine**. That's short. **Donuts**! That's sweet.

* * *

**Video Killed the Radio Star**

Chapter Un: Are You Pregnant?

_Lorelai watched Luke. "Hey, I have an idea. Tomorrow night is usually movie night."_

"_What?"_

"_Rory and I would always rent a bunch of movies, order food -- it was our thing," explained Lorelai. "Now she's at school and busy, so why don't you come over? It might be fun."_

_Luke paused for a second, thinking. "Okay."_

* * *

Lorelai was strolling through aisle seven of the Doose's- or, as she heard Luke fondly call it, the aisle of inevitable suicide. Lorelai never understood what was so deadly about it. I mean, an aisle with marshmallows could be nothing but innocent. She always retaliated that it wasn't just coincidence that the number of the candy aisle rhymed with heaven, Luke could never fight back because, seriously, what else rhymed with seven? Except, you know, eleven. But that was the pet food aisle. Not exactly heaven. Ugh, it smelled like crap. And from what she'd seen in Babette's house, the stuff was crap. Regurgitated crap, even. Just put in a can with a pretty label. How on earth were people allowed to sell that stuff? I mean, isn't that an EPA violation? She thanked her lucky stars that she didn't have a cat every time she saw Babette feed Apricot. Thank God she had no skills concerning pets. I mean, just look what happened to poor Skippy. What kind of a phrase was 'lucky stars' anyway? What the hell was a lucky star?

Lorelai dragged her mind away from its entertaining escapades to focus on the mission at hand- choosing the perfect food for movie night. After all, it was Luke's first movie night, and she wanted to go all out. Lorelai added a pack of cookie dough to her already escalating collection of marshmallows, chocolate chips, Oreos, peanut butter, Twizzlers, Cheetos Puffs, Twinkies, two tubs of that new Half-Baked Ben and Jerry's ice cream, and those little brown and white chocolaty things that people put on ice cream sometimes.

She decided to be compassionate and grabbed a bag of carrot sticks from aisle two.

Lorelai rounded the end of the aisle, dropping a box of Movie-Theatre Style popcorn in her basket, and approached Taylor at the register.

"Well hi-diddly-ho there, Lorelai, stocking up for another movie night extravaganza?" he said in his annoyingly high-spirited voice.

"Sure am, Taylor. Why are you behind the counter tonight?"

He sighed, warning her she was in for a patented Taylor-spouting of whatever he deemed unacceptable at that moment. "Oh, my bagboy called in at the last possible moment. Said something or other about his mother being in the hospital." Taylor shook his head as he bagged Lorelai's Twinkies. (Dirty, I'm sorry). "Mentioned intensive care, might not make it, blah, blah, blah- it's all excuses! I tell you, you just can't depend on kids these days."

"That rascal."

"Don't I know it," he agreed. "So, who's your movie night company tonight?"

She paused, a little flustered. "Sorry?"

"Usually you're with Rory, but I know she's at Yale tonight. So, who's joining you?"

"Ahh… no one. Flying solo tonight." She grinned, fumbling with her purse.

"Oh, well…" He clicked a few keys. "And that comes to 19.73 total," he announced, handing her two bags and smartly sliding the twenty she gave him into its designated spot in the register.

"Pleasure doing business with ya, Taylor," she called as she exited the market sharply. "Keep the change, I'm feeling generous."

"Twenty-seven cents and she thinks she's Mother Theresa," grumbled Taylor, tightening his bowtie fiercely.

* * *

Lorelai had barely let out a breath of relief before she collided with Miss Patty, who was admired the squash in the wooden boxes outside the market. "Oops… sorry, Patty, should've had my lights on." She laughed in her nervous fashion, stepping away. "Well, I'm off."

"Movie night tonight?" questioned Patty.

"Yes, yes there is. Now if I could just-"

"Is anyone with you?"

"Nope, I'm all by my lonesome on this one."

Patty peered into the bags Lorelai was gripping tightly. "Seems like a lot of food for one person."

Lorelai laughed. "Well, never underestimate the power of a Gilmore's stomach." She was glad she had picked up the carrots last, therefore landing them on the bottom of the bag, away from Miss Patty's eagle eyes.

"If you say so, honey," shrugged Patty. "See you later. I've got a date tonight, and I'm doing a little last-minute shopping."

"Sure, because a date just isn't a date without… " She peered into Miss Patty's basket. "Olive oil and all-purpose flour."

"You said it, doll," she replied with a suggestive wink.

"Bye, Patty." Lorelai walked away at an unusually brisk pace for her- almost a jog- and released a sigh. She knew that if they caught wind of her and Luke's movie night, she'd never hear the end of it. She'd probably have to scrape snot stains off the windows the next morning from all the busybodies with their faces shoved against her windows. Hell, she'd probably have to scrape entire faces off the glass.

* * *

Lorelai stepped back and admired her handiwork. She had managed to coax everything she bought, along with the Chinese she ordered, onto the coffee table with minimal stacking and/or bowl consolidating. Climactic, black-and-white-sounding _Casablanca_ music was playing from her TV as the DVD sat ready to go, different scenes playing across the main menu. She was wearing her favorite black cashmere sweater that she'd bought under the influence of cold medicine and had dented her bank account considerably and used her new coconut body lotion. Beer and coffee was in the kitchen, pillows were plumped on the couch, lighting was sufficiently dimmed.

She was bored. Where was Luke?

She was just about to consider putting his picture on a milk carton when the doorbell rang. She sprung over, running a hand through her newly-washed hair.

Lorelai swung the door open to find a bag-laden Luke. "Are you pregnant?"

"Not that I know of…" replied Luke, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, I wouldn't be so sure. You're late."

"Ah," said Luke, stepping inside with a grin- well, as close to a grin as Luke Danes got. "Sorry 'bout that, there was an unexpected rush at the diner."

"Yeah, well, you had me worried. I didn't know if you were living with Carlos Solis." Lorelai wagged an accusing finger at him. "Is your birth control being tampered with?" She broke off as she caught a whiff of Luke's bags. "What is that incredibly delicious smell, may I ask?"

"Food. I told you I'd bring it." He entered the living room and caught sight of the crowded coffee table. "And apparently you ignored me. Am I surprised?"

"Well, you know me, I love my routine," smirked Lorelai. "Just…" She surveyed her table with pursed lips. "Well, put it on the floor. Want a beer?" She bounced into the kitchen before he could answer, knowing the response would be affirmative anyway.

Luke perched gingerly on the edge of the couch and leaned forward, eyeing the sugared table distrustfully. "Why did you buy so much crap?" he questioned as she returned, slapping a beer into his hand and popping the top off her own.

Lorelai feigned a shocked look, putting her hand over heart. "I cannot believe what I am hearing. These Twizzlers are CHERRY flavored! And I got the jumbo pack. I'm not likely to be getting scurvy soon with all this fruit around the house."

"My mistake," he replied dryly, taking a swig of his beer. "What are we watching?" he asked, settling back onto the couch.

"A classic. _Casablanca_, which you apparently have never seen, though I find that hard to believe."

"Trust me. I'm not a big movie guy."

"Really? Because I always saw you as one of those Netflixers who can quote Val Kilmer's huge line from _Top Secret!_ at any possible moment."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Just start the movie, please."

"Woah, we're not ready yet."

"We're not?"

"No. You gotta get comfortable, squish around."

"I'm fine."

"No, really, squish. Come on." Lorelai bounced up and down.

"I'll take a rain check on the squishing."

"You can't do that," informed Lorelai. "You're not allowed to squish during the movie. It's against the rules."

"Of course there's rules," he sighed. "It is a Gilmore movie night, after all, and when you think Lorelai Gilmore you think structure."

"You mock me, but yes. The rules are an integral part of movie night to ensure our ultimate enjoyment."

He sighed and grabbed a carrot stick. "Tell me."

* * *

Ow. My neck hurts. I was attacked by a surfboard. No joke, it tried to decapitate me and it just hit me in the neck. I have a huge cut! I had to pull an under-water Matrix and bend back to avoid further injuries. Stupid possessed surfboard. 


	2. Luke and James Sitting in a Tree

**NEW NOTE ADDED 7/22**

Um, I don't really feel the feelings I express further down to Anon. The only reason I kept it is because it REALLY amuses me. A lot. So don't think anything of it. Think of it as, "Oh, another one of Hanna's meaningless rants."

* * *

Second chapter now. Prepare for some mean-Muffin, something you don't encounter usually.

**_Anon! Hey, you! Yeah, you. What kind of name is 'Anon' anyway, for starters? Too lazy too type 'Anonymous' out? And yes, it's possible, I just spelled it without spell check. My God, it's just five extra freakin' letters. Who do you think you are anyhow? I LIKE my rambling and I LIKE my so-called "cute-sy author's notes!" I like talking, mkay? And if you were a true Gilmore fan you would too. And the "endless shout-outs," as you call them, are FUN. I like to write them. People like to read them. And it is just not the same in an email. If you're so annoyed by them, just skip it to read the story! That's easy, isn't it? Not too much strain on your wrist. I promise you won't get carpal tunnel from clicking the damn mouse a couple of times. But apparently you couldn't even do that. My story "looks like it might be good"? What is that crap? Do you just open fics to glance at them and find out immediately what is wrong without even looking at the WRITING just so you can insult the author? I will do exactly what I damn please and you cannot STOP me. All you do, actually, is drive me to write longer and CUTE-SIER author's notes (whatever the hell cute-sy is. And you don't need that hyphen. Just 'cutesy' will suffice). Constructive criticism usually involves some actual advice. And telling me to cut my precious author's notes out from my fic definitely does not count as constructive in my book. Just so you know, you are the first person to ever have displayed negative responses towards my author's notes. Most people actually say that they read my stories partly because of my a/n's. And sure, maybe I'm scaring you away. But if you don't appreciate my ranting then, frankly, I don't want you here. – sticks out tongue- So just stick that criticism where the sun don't shine, little Anon._**

Yeah, I can be mean. Don't provoke me.

Mkay, people, I have no guidelines for this story at all. You know, some people have an outline or even everything typed up beforehand. None of my stories have had that, though. My teachers always drilled into my brain that you should never, under ANY circumstances, write without brainstorming first. Well, I'm a bad listener. So the point of me telling you this is that I accept every suggestion and all suggestions freely and take them into serious consideration.

Oh, and happy dance time. This chapter's longer than the norm. To make up for my mad ranting a/n to irritate **Anon.**

Oh, and just for reference points, I have actually seen _Casablanca_. Actually, I have a _Casablanca_ lunchbox. Don't even ask about that one.

**Totaltvjunkie:** You know what I've realized? The longest reviews I ever get barely have anything about my actual fan fic. But, ah, I love it that way anyway. You know what they say when your drug gets taken away. Glad I'm back to mitigate the pain. I love that I have the power to turn you into one of those crazy homeless ladies muttering to themselves. Even better in the corner of a room in a crowded camp. The setting is much more hostile. Kids with newly-acquired fencing skills can often go wrong… look what Paris did in "Secrets and Loans." I used to be obsessed with HP too. Ooh, I have an obsessive-HP story, These two girls in my fitness class at school are both obsessed with it. I was, unfortunately, in ballet that trimester, and I was in a group with them both. I said, "Oh great, now I'm going to have to do my dance to the Harry Potter theme song." I thanked my big mouth repeatedly over the next few months, as the girls had received my comment with delight. For the first two weeks I seriously thought they were joking. I begged for the entire time to please please choose a different song. But no. I did my dance to the Harry Potter theme song. We had to dress up in house colors. I was Slytherin. But I drew the line at their suggestion of flicking pretend wands and saying "expecto patronum" and told them that I would NOT cast a spell on the audience. That was a very low point in my life. Yeah, rambly's a word. It's a word cuz I said it. That's how words get made cuz people say 'em and them other people say 'em. Wow, now I'm quoting Shane, Jess's breathing device. Low point when you quote a character who has nothing to say.

**L/L r Lobsters:** Sorry about Frank. I know that must have been… hard… to deal with. Hmm, you know what I just realized? The first review you ever left me was for Safety Dance and all you said was, "I had a relatively close idea. Great job and please continue!" And look at you know. I have transformed you from a meek, unopinionated little reviewer into an eager rambler. My powers are amazing! I'm such an evil person to ask about new names. My friend wanted a new screenname and I spent about half an hour trying to convince her to be _cHeESecAKeLUver77_ because, as I argued, it was cool in cake form. After she yelled at me repeatedly that she didn't want it in cake form, I told her to make it _cOOlNotINcAKeForM77_. She got very mad and told me she didn't want anything with the word 'cake' in it so I offered _cHeESe(star-star-star-star)LUver77_ and _cOOlNotIN(star-star-star-star)ForM77_ and told her that if that wasn't cool, I didn't know what cool was. (I IM'd it with actual stars but they don't show up here.) She then, growing increasingly annoyed with me, screamed at me using my full name much like a disgruntled mother in an old TV show and told me she didn't want a screen name, just an idea for one. So I spouted of a list of random items, including striped socks, pants, mushrooms, Vietnam, midgets, cannibals, and Bambi. So, unless you want to pull out your hair… hmm, well, actually, _cHeESecAKeLUver77_ still isn't taken…

**Gidget89 (aka Kosher): **Wow. Correct direction scrolling? I really am loved. I love the 80s too, and it wasn't even my decade. Well, I've made it my decade. This current decade is sorely lacking, I personally think. Well, my kosher, Most Likely to be Blessed by a Rabbi friend, I love Monty Python. But he's not a person. He's six people. He's a show. Marshmellows are the picture of innocence, besides people in headbands. Bowties are pretty creepy.

**pOnDeReSqUe: **I'm so glad that I am your (self-proclaimed, admittedly) favorite person. And that my Desperate Housewives reference almost made you choke. See, I love hearing things like that. I love it when people tell me they choked on gum or fell out of their chair because of what I write. That is the most touching compliment a person could give me. Those rape vans scare me too! The big white ones? Whenever I see one I stare it down like I'm saying, "Just try to rape me, buddy, you've got it coming," and then they drive away. I like to think it's because I scare them. Don't get upset that people think you should be Bambi prancing. It's actually a good thing. You can get away with anything. I mean, just look at Baby Spice. A 97? What about the other 3 percent? What did I do to lose that? Let me guess…chapter size.

**Lenina Crowne**: You have no idea, babe. I've converted so many freakin' people to rambling it's insane. At least three people have already told me that they NEVER ramble but I just make them ramble, and they never ramble for anyone else but me! But I am rambling extra today because of that damn **Anon** person. Grrrr. And squealing is not bad. It's just a reflex to blame someone else for everything. Unless it's good. Then I take the credit. Something different about me than most other JavaJunkie writers is that I love writing dialogue more than 'getting Luke and Lorelai together.' It's so much fun. In fact, some of the stuff I write is stuff that I personally say in every day speakage. You were listening to that? Jump back! That's totally freaky deaky.

**Oywidapoodles:** That's the line! I love that movie. You totally _should_ see it. And Airplane, which is by the same people. It's so funny… they're both spoof-movies, spoofing stuff. Spoof is a weird word, dontcha think? Spoooof. It's, like, a fake word. Yeah, doing them all would get pretty redundant. It's repetitive. And redundant. It's repetitive. And redundant.

**Rrrrrusty: **Wedding are fun. I get to go to one in Scotland this summer for a person I am related to that I don't know. That is probably the best kind. But I've only been to one, my aunt's a couple of years ago, and I drank buck fizz (half orange juice, half champagne) and I like thought I was drunk. Hey, I was 10. I love writing Lorelai. Well, actually, I love writing them all. But she kinda reminds me of me so it's fun to write her. – sigh – I know I'm a genius. Hmm, you always call me girly. When I was little I used to hate people calling me girly-girl because I was such a tomboy. Girly sounds really weird if you say it repeatedly in a high voice. I'm hoping you're surrounded by people while reading this.

**Lukelaiandroryndean**: You might be the only person I know that would celebrate when hearing that they're someone's property. I AM lucky to be getting long reviews from you. Sometimes when I'm reading fics and I occasionally look at the reviews for it, I see a person that reviews ramblaciously for me, but they say like two things there. And I'm like HA! I'M SPECIAL! I get the rambles!

**Izzpuppy:** Don't worry, I am a 'gal.' Seriously, what guy is as witty as this? None that I know. Maybe you do. That's so cool you have a guy friend that loves Gilmore Girls. Major props to him because most guys hate it before they watch it SIMPLY because the word girl is in the title. It's wrong, I know, but hey, the title is not the best marketing device. I hope you sit in your room, eating Fruit Loops out of the box, and pondering which side of your hair looks the coolest. I love Lorelai's Dean impression. Left side- cool, right side- not so cool. I love my disclaimer too. It just came rolling in on a wave of inspiration. I love shiny things. They're just so, you know… shiny. I lurve cookie dough. I eat it raw out of the tube so much. Sometimes, over like a week, I realize I've eaten the entire tube. But geez, it's so good! I thank the Lord daily that I'm not the size of a whale. Gotta love that metabolism, eh?

**Mrschandlerbing:** - sigh – I know I'm popular. And I did read your stories… I've actually read them before. I love 'em.

**_Is that long enough for you, ANON? I made this one extra long for you because I know how much you love it. I can go on for longer. Don't make me._**

* * *

**Video Killed the Radio Star**

Chapter Deux: Luke and James Sitting in a Tree

Luke watched passively as Rick sat down with a customer after previously stating he would never do such a thing. Wow. Now if that's climactic, I don't know what is. He yawned inwardly. His mind started to wander.

But not to Lorelai. Not to how Lorelai was sitting next to him in a darkened room with her leg pressed up against his. Not to how his leg was feeling pleasantly warm all along where it made contact with Lorelai's, like the little blue sparks you saw when you shoved a plug in too fast. Not to how his arm was slung casually across the back of the sofa near Lorelai's shoulders. Not to how, if he just moved his arm a little, his arm would be encircling her shoulders and he'd be holding her. Not to how she smelled insanely good, like coconut or some tropical crap. Not to the way he could see Humphrey Bogart's face reflected in her glowing blue eyes as she watched, enthralled. Not to how amazing it was she could she could still be enthralled while watching this movie she had seen millions of times.

Luke cleared his throat, trying to vanquish all the not-thoughts roaming around his head. Lorelai turned her head. "Shh."

"I didn't say anything."

"But you made a distracting noise, causing me to say 'shh,' causing us to begin talking as we are doing now, which, as you know, is against Movie Night rules."

"Shh. I'm trying to watch."

"No, you're not. You've been completely unfocused for the past twenty minutes."

He sighed. "I'll watch. I promise."

"Okay." She eyed him for a few more seconds before she turned back, settling back a little onto the sofa.

It wasn't that he didn't like the movie or that he didn't want to watch it. He did. He was just having a pretty damn hard time concentrating, especially now that he could feel her head against his arm and her hair smelt like… well, he wasn't an expert on feminine-type smells so he didn't know, but all he knew was that it smelled good. He breathed in inconspicuously, just to make sure. Yep. That was definitely a smell in the good-category.

Lorelai leaning forward to dip her Oreo in peanut butter snapped him out of his reverie. He stared at the creamy concoction in her hand. "That's disgusting."

"Haven't you ever seen _The Parent Trap_? I picked it up from there, and that girl is right- it is good. I'm talking about the Lindsey Lohan version currently. Man, I used to love that girl. Now she's all slutty and dying her hair blonde. What's with that? I mean, they say it's for her new movie on a prairie or something like that but it makes her look so washed out, don't you think?" She paused. "Hmm. Who am I asking this? Forget all that." She popped the cookie in her mouth and licked the extra peanut butter off of her fingers with a flourish. Luke watched her nervously, heat rising through his body.

"You're breaking the rules."

"Look who's suddenly so concerned with the rules." She made a face at him, grabbed the bowl of Cheetos, and settled back onto his arm. She had just noticed how nice it looked, lying there on the back of her sofa, so she decided to lean against it. Purely for aesthetic reasons, of course.

Luke felt Lorelai lean back into him, and he could have sworn she was a little closer to him then before. Nestled in the crook of his arm, she picked a Cheeto from the bowl.

"Want a Cheeto?"

He paused. "I'm sorry, is this me you're asking?"

"Hey, it looks like a carrot. It's small and orange."

"And coated with MSG. That stuff can kill you."

"Yeah, I know, I've seen the Teen Girl Squad comic strip." She poked him in the nose with it. "Just eat it."

"No." He wiped the orange dust off of his nose.

"One won't kill you."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Come on, eat the Cheeto!"

He leaned back. "You're missing the video. Don't you want to watch the video?"

She shook her head. "No. Video killed the radio star." She poked him repeatedly with the Cheeto. "I won't shut up until you eat the Cheeto."

"Stop saying the word Cheeto, you're freaking me out."

"The thing is begging to be eaten, Luke."

"Then you eat it."

"No, he wants his daddy." She grinned.

He sighed. "Fine. Give me the damn Cheeto. But I'm stopping here. Give up on your dreams of making me eat cookie dough."

"Salmonella, right?" She poked the Cheeto against his lips. He opened his mouth to object and she slid it in, her fingertip brushing his lips as she withdrew her finger.

"Good boy," she said, smiling over her internal stuttering. That was a little weird.

He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath of annoyance (whose real purpose was to get oxygen to his brain). Not thinking about the feel of her warm finger pressing on his lips, he grabbed the remote and started rewinding. "We missed stuff while you were yammering on about Lindsey Lohan."

"Ah, so you do retain some of the information I give to you."

"Well, you yak so much, something has to stick."

Just then the phone rang. Lorelai remained in her seat, now having grabbed the marshmallows and stuck three in her mouth at once.

"Aren't you gonna get that?"

Lorelai looked at him like he had suggested for her to start drinking decaf for a change, her cheeks bulging like a hamster's, and swallowed with difficulty. "Um, noo. It's against the rules."

"Oh, come on. You've already broken the rules. And the movie isn't even playing right now. I'm rewinding."

"Rewinding is against the rules too. Naughty boy. Why do you have such a problem with authority?"

The answering machine sang, "This is Jenny! I'm not here, but if you really wanna make me yours, call back on my private number, 867-5309. Tommy, I'm waiting."

There was a click and Rory's voice filled the room. "Mom? Are you there? Pick up if you are."

Lorelai leapt up and grabbed the phone. "I'm here, babe, what's up?"

Luke paused the movie at a point he remembered, Humphrey Bogart's mouth hanging open attractively. From what he was partially listening to of the girls' conversation, Rory's date with that Yale putz wasn't working out very well.

Luke took a swig of his beer to get rid of the disgusting, fake cheesy taste from his mouth and tried to clear his head of his dizzying not-thoughts about Lorelai's finger on his lips, including the not-idea of her finger a little further in his mouth.

Lorelai roused him from his not-thoughts by whirling around and saying something about urine mints, to which he responded with an intelligent "What?" Lorelai said a little more to Rory and hung up, plopping back onto the sofa next to Luke.

"What's the deal with Rory?" he asked.

Lorelai sighed. "Her date's not going too good. The guy is sitting on the same side as her and she's all nervous because, you know, she's never really dated before. I mean, she's gone on dates, but that's a very different thing than _dating_ dating. Dating and going on dates are worlds apart, though they may seem the same to the untrained eye."

"Too well, you mean."

"What?"

"You said 'too good.' That's incorrect grammar."

"Well, excuse me for thinking I could get away with it around Luke, grammar police."

"No one can get away with that kind of thing."

Lorelai grinned at him. "Except Devo."

He rolled his eyes and took a sip of beer. "What if she said there was a draft?" he said suddenly. "Like, the air is hitting her so she can move to the other side."

She stared at him. "That's perfect!" She stood, grabbed the phone, and called Rory back, quickly explaining Luke's idea to Rory. "Mkay. Yeah, later." She sat back down with Luke. "She says thanks."

He sighed. "God, I hate dating. I've always hated dating, even when I was a kid. I never understood those people who got a thrill out dating. It's time-consuming and nerve-wracking and pretty pointless. You dress up and pay for someone else you barely know who eats like a pig and talks incessantly about her ex-boyfriend's bad toilet seat habits and her dream of meeting James Spader because wasn't he just the sexiest _in Pretty in Pink_."

"Okay, Dennis Miller, let's ration the ranting a little." She giggled suddenly. "I can't believe I heard Luke say James Spader was sexy."

"Not me personally, I was speaking metaphorically."

"Sure, sure. What did you think of him in Boston Legal? Ooh, do you have pictures of him taped on your ceiling and you blow him a kiss every night?"

"I didn't say he was sexy!"

"Now, I have a very important question- do you find him sexier now, in the legal suits and whatnot, or in the mid-80s with those sunglasses?"

"You're cruel."

"I'm sarcastic," she corrected, flashing him a gorgeous smile. "That's what makes me so charming. But seriously, dating's the only way to get to know someone."

"No. There's the gut."

"Like the spleen and stuff?"

"No. It's like an instinct. I can tell immediately who I'm comfortable with and who I'm not. I feel it here, I felt it with Nicole and Rachel."

She smiled at him, a genuine smile. "Ah. You've got the gut thing. That's nice."

"It's knowing someone will let you be who you are and won't try to change you," he explained.

"I've kinda got that too," she mused. "I was comfortable with Max and Chris, and then Sookie and… you."

He smiled into her eyes momentarily, their gazes locking. Surprisingly, they didn't look away. "We've got the gut."

"That's always nice to know." She smiled at him for a little bit longer. Their friendship had shifted over the years from coffee-coffee-coffee to something more, something permanent she could count on. And she liked that idea a lot.

His eyes shifted away, a smile still his face, breaking the electric bond.

"You want dessert?"

"Depends what's for dessert."

"Cheeseburger for me, salad for you." Luke gave her an interesting look. "Don't look so surprised, you brought the food." She stood up and disappeared into the kitchen as the phone rang.

"Planning on getting that?" called Luke.

He was greeted with a loud growl from the kitchen and the sound of something metal falling. "Gah! Damn cookingware."

Luke sighed and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Who is this?"

"Isn't it customary for me to ask that?"

"This is Emily Gilmore. Who's this?"

"Um, Luke Danes, ma'am, Lorelai's friend from the diner."

"Ah, yes, the ice-man who hates the Romanoffs," replied Emily.

"Sorry? Ah, wait, hold on a second."

Emily heaved a sigh of impatience as she heard voices leaking through the phone. "Well, you answered it before. Then what would I be doing here? Fine, fine."

Then came Lorelai's voice. "Mom?"

"Lorelai. What are you and Luke doing?"

Lorelai sighed. "The same thing we do every night, Mom. Try to take over the world."

"What?"

"Nothing, Mom."

"I swear, Lorelai, the things you say to me sometimes, you'd think you were on drugs."

Lorelai took a deep breath. "What do you want, Mom?"

"Why did you tell Natalie Zimmerman she couldn't speak to me?"

"I didn't say that…"

"I was asking her to freshen up a room she'd done for me several years ago and she declined. I had to force it out of her that she had 'made certain promises to you.'"

"Mom, I just… fine, whatever, I'm sorry. Go ahead, hire Natalie. See if I care."

"Thank you."

"And while we are on the subject, is Natalie the one who told you about Sookie being pregnant?"

"No, she is not."

"Then who told you?"

"It doesn't matter, Lorelai."

"It does too. Tell me who told you."

"No. I'm not indulging this silly behavior."

"Don't make me break out into Duran Duran."

"I'm not telling you."

"Okay, you asked for it. Please please tell me now! Please please tell me now!" crooned Lorelai, amazingly off key.

"Lorelai!" snapped Emily, shocked at her daughter's lewdness.

"Is there something I should know?"

"Stop that."

"Is there something I should say?"

"Please, spare me."

"I told you it wouldn't be pretty," grinned Lorelai evilly. She turned around to see Luke carrying in the 'dessert' on plates. The steam told her he had heated up her burger. She smiled at him he walked past and placed the food on the barest amount of space left on the table. He didn't have to warm it up for her, but he did. That was just like Luke.

"…your father's waiting."

"Wha? Who?" asked Lorelai, jerking back into reality and realizing that obnoxious squeaking in her ear was her mother speaking.

"I said, I have to go and speak to your father. You know, your father, Richard Gilmore." A blank space in time as Lorelai watched Luke's jeans stretch tighter around the back as he sat down. "Or do you not remember him?"

Snap back to reality. "Oh, yeah, yeah, I do. Sorry. I just thought you said, 'Fort Lager fixed your billboard' and I was thinking, 'Wasn't it Fort Whiskey that I asked to fix my billboard?' and I was confused for a second there. But I'm back. Sooo, bye, you can go now."

"Stranger and stranger every day," mused Emily. _Click._

* * *

Yeah, that's right. I used a Pinky and the Brain reference.

And also I've just realized I talked about the 2005 version of Lindsey Lohan which didn't exist back then. Sooooo, my apologies. Let it slip just this once. And seriously, what's with her new hair? I used to love her when she was in Parent Trap because I have red hair too. She looks like a ghost or something now. Or a vanilla ice cream cone.


	3. Forgotten Girl Scout Massacre

_Sorry 'bout all the deleting of the story crap. Oh and by the way, it's all explained in an author's note on the first chapter, so if you're itching to know what happened you can just pop over there and take a quick looksie. No, I don't talk like that._

_Urm, and I'm going to visit England on July 27th, therefore updating will be non-existent. I'll finish this story before then, and I get back August 17th or something, but my sister goes to college on the 25th, and, just to make everything extra-wonderful, I'm moving, for reasons which I am not inclined to relate to anyone. I'm actually holding off telling anyone I know until completely inevitable, and by then they'll be all, "Since Saint Patrick's Day? And you tell me now?" But anyway. The point of me telling you all this information that you don't care about is that new stories will be very out of the question until maybe the end of August. And I'm not really looking forward to doing stories during school, so… I don't know, I might get into one-shots or something. Yes, I know, it's crazy! Fan fic authors are actual PEOPLE with actual LIVES, not just bodiless spirits whose one point in life is to write for you whenever it's convenient for you! It shocks me too._

_Ponder this for a second. We are online, we know nothing (well not much) of each other. What if, when I was at the beach, you were there too? What if you were that fat guy lying near me? Or the lady who gave me an ice cream? Or that woman lying next to that man sunbathing? Or that man lying next to that woman sunbathing? Maybe I passed you on the street. Maybe I bumped into you and said, "Sorry," and we never knew! Maybe you waited on me at Kay n' Dave's, even though I don't really like Kay n' Dave's. Well, actually, their fries are amazing. And their burgers. They're huge and I looked like a totally pig shoving it into my mouth and I was covered in ketchup. Or, even weirder thought. Maybe I know you. Maybe you're my teacher. Maybe you're on my dad's soccer team. Maybe you go to my school. Maybe you're one of my friends' parents. Maybe you're that really nice travel agent or that other really nice real estate agent. We will never know. And that's freaky._

_And seriously, world, what does PDLD mean? I reviewed a person who'd asked that question. Let me quote myself. "I have no idea what PDLD is and it bugs me whenever I see it. So I checked your reviews to see what people had said. No one answered it! You know what I think? Some random drunk person writing the first Rory-Finn fic couldn't think of a good name to call them. Since it was very late at night, and the drunk person was, you know, drunk, he (yes, it's a guy) pressed some random buttons and sent the fanfic on its merry way. People reading it saw PDLD and thought, wow, I don't know what that means. Therefore it must be very clever and far too beyond my meager intelligence. If I use the term, people will think I'm smart! And so they term grew. And no one in the world knows what it means, except for the drunk guy, but he died in a tragic accident. A pool game gone wrong, to be exact. I won't go into the details, they're pretty gory." So if you actually do know, or you're that inebriated fellow's ghost, please please tell me (now! Sorry.)_

_Oh, and also, I know I changed Luke and Nicole's relationship a little, but as this is a What in the World if? fic, that is perfectly legal. So don't review telling me 'but that didn't happen until blah blah begins to rant while Hanna stops listening!'_

_**Disclaimers- the most important meal of the day: **Since I want to avoid another run-in with the police and I'm currently in their bad books after that whole whipped-cream-monster-truck incident, I'm going to be honest and say I don't own these characters. Or Airplane. But here's some non-profit advertising- watch it. It's a kick._

Mkay, **Anon.** I am not going to yell at you this time. I am going to calmly reply to your review. – takes breath - I don't mind bad reviews at all. Seriously, I don't. My only problem with you is the fact that you didn't mention my story. You didn't even read my story. (Well, that WAS my only problem with you until recent events, but anyway. Not talking about that with you.) That's obnoxious, frankly. If you don't like my a/n's then you can just skip them. Don't review just to tell me you don't like my a/n's and not read the story. I don't know why the fact that I like to talk should put you off my entire fic. That has no impact on my writing. So then just stop reviewing. A review telling me you don't like the a/n's and you haven't read the story is completely pointless and is not going to make a difference whatsoever in what I do. Either read and review the actual story or just don't review. Kapish? Also, here's a quote from **bloodymary2:** "Now, note to ANON2, who probably won't read this: Author's note's are permitted (yeah, there is not length limit, so stop complaining) as long as they come before or after a chapter. And if you are not reading the story, why put your two cents in? If you have nothing to report, MOVE ALONG..." And as an afterthought, here's just a little friendly, good-natured question. Do you review as Anon because you're scared that otherwise people will know your identity and you're too much a coward to show your yellow face because then people will have an actual person to be mad at and you're too wimpy to deal with that? Just wondering. I have nothing else to say to you. – sends shooting glares of death – That was just low, man. Low, low, low.

**Scubaluver**: Don't feel scared to reply! I seriously don't mind bad reviews at _all_. The only reason I yelled at **Anon** is because they didn't even read my story, they just reviewed to flame my a/n and didn't say anything about the writing. That annoys me. And also I was feeling in a powerful, ranting mood. You're great because your criticism is constructive… and you actually read the writing. So say whatever the hell you want about my writing, I promise I won't kill you. I'm sorry if I scared you. I don't mean to scare reviewers who want to say something bad. Just, seriously, **Anon** didn't mention my story! That's the part that annoys me, not the criticism. Oh and NOW also the getting my story REPORTED and DELETED thing. Sorry that messed up the chapter for you, it took me a while to write that chapter. But oh well, I guess I have to pay for my random spout of meanness. (By the way, it's ciao, not caio.)

**L/L are Lobsters/Beeba**: Hello, my newly-acclaimed email friend! (Well…newly acclaimed when I wrote this… now not so newly acclaimed) I know, they're so mean! I mean, if you're going to criticize, mention the actual STORY please. "I'm sure your story is good but…" I mean what's that all about? At least four people have told me I converted them into ramblers and they only ramble for me. And I love **GilmoreGirl1979**, she was practically a GODDESS to me at the beginning of my fan fic career, even before I got my own penname. **Beeba** is such a cool sounding name. I reviewed you there. A WHILE ago… And I already saw Bewitched. It was SO funny. I mean, you know when you laugh in a theatre it's usually a quiet 'ahaha,' more like a chuckle? Well, I was laughing so hard at parts. I have a very loud laugh. I even snorted at one point. I loved the part where he was talking about the dog weirdly because she made him.

**Suz22**: I know! Lindsey Lohan used to be my idol. A person told me I looked like her once (when I was little) and I practically wet myself. Thankya, I love my a/n's too. And you are in one right now. I hate the reviews that just say it's bad without talking about the story. I mean, construct, people! I read about three of your chapters for Daydreams and it seems good to me! Just send those people who flamed it to me and I'll take care of them with my biting verbal wit.

**Izzpuppy**: I love you. I love you. I love you. (dramatic pause to let information sink in) I usually reply to reviews in the order I got them but I decided to just do yours right now because I just read it and it made me want to cry. In a good way. Because I have fostered a rambler. I think cookies are a waste for cookie dough. Unless you make them like my sister, which is basically in the oven for a couple minutes and when you take them out they're warm and soft and you practically have to eat them with a spoon. It's like heated cookie dough, it's so good. I recommend it. I know, I saw your bio thing and you talked about me and I was like, "Squeal! That's me! Me, me, right there!" I love frolicking. I have this one friend (she kind of reminds me of you in the way that she's always… frolicking with her computer and doing nothing but her metabolism is crazy fast and she's so skinny) and whenever we go away in AIM (you know people say 'brb') we're like, go frolic in BRB Land and then we start to frolic and I stand up and frolic around my living room and occasionally around my dog who stares at me like's I'm insane, which is a probable thing actually, and moves away slowly so not as to startle me. Hmm, frolic looks weird but that's how my computer says it's spelled. Yeah, geez, WHITE sunglasses? With her pale skin and now freakin' ghost hair? Lindsey, Lindsey. I love Blue's Clues! And oh my God, apples and peanut butter is so good. But what's even better is apples and CARAMEL. In advisory at school we have advisory food and this one girl's like, "Why can't we have something healthy?" and I'm like, "…" so we decided to bring in apples but with peanut butter and caramel for us normal people and I was dipping that apple in there crazily, it was so good and I was so sticky and it was all over me and we were supposed to be cleaning up and I was still standing there shoving apples and caramel in my face and my advisor's like, "Hanna!" and I'm like, "Hold on hold on one more apple," and the point is it's amazing. – sigh – You're right, I am Amy in disguise, come to write fanfic. Damn! And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for that meddling **Izzpuppy** and, um, her dog. Hmm, that sounded better in my head. Wow, wet noodles. That's so cool. It makes me want to make a really big piece of pasta and cook it so it's really soft (euch, I love al dente pasta) and then soak it in my sink and then go around attacking people with it. That would be so cool. You can write down the phone message. I'm thinking of using it myself actually when I get a cell phone. It's sad I don't have one but I think I'm getting one soon. And I can't do it on the house phone because once I made a really funny one with my friends but then my mom changed it because it annoyed her. Woah about the Yellow Submarine thing. I guess if you're looking for it it sounds slightly druggish but not too much. If you wanna find a song with a clear hidden message, listen to Billy Idol's "Dancing with Myself." Even the title shows it. And he mentions 'love vibrations.' Just try guess what it's about. I now realized this is much much too long for a shout out and I will abruptly cut myself off, leaving you wondering if I was planning on saying anything else.

**Epona9009**: Yeah, I hate that Luke's married. Hmm, maybe I'll do a little twisting. Or maybe I'll incorporate the marriage into the fic as a problem. I've always wondered who told Emily. But the thing I wonder about the most is The Town Loner's protest. What was he protesting, dammit? I really want to know! Sometimes it makes me grumpy and I have a bad day, thinking about the protest. I want to jump into the screen and grab the paper and turn it around and READ it. I'm not going to delete Anon's reviews because I like it. It amuses me how mean he/she/it is. And he/she/it did review again and it was still mean. He/She/It said he/she/it wasn't going to read my story. I'm like… well, I'm not going to get into again, I replied to him/her/it at the beginning of this chapter farther up there. If you have the utmost desire to read it you can. GRR I can't believe he/she/it reported my story.

**Copperboom**: I actually went and read your one fic. And I love it, it's so good. It sucks you can't sign in because you'd make an amazing L/L writer. Maybe you can make a new account. I _do_ do soccer but I seriously don't remember ever writing that. Did I write that? And, if so, where? Am I losing my mind? Hehe, I'm the best writer. I totally love that episode (Donna Reed one). It's one of my favorites. But the one iffy thing I have about Season 1 and 2 fics (even though I did one Season 2 fic) is that Lorelai isn't emotionally ready, she's still in love with Chris. But hey, I guess I can ignore that. Because it's fiction! That GG quote game sounds funny. I love saying "Oy with the poodles already!" to people. I'll be sure to feel my taters.

**Totaltvjunkie**: Ha! A fellow redhead! I don't know what it is about me but I'm like obsessed with other redheads. Not in a weird way. Well, I guess even the thought of being obsessed with red hair is kind of weird. But I just mean that if someone has red hair my opinion of them goes up considerably. And that is one of the reasons I'm pissed at Lindsey. I mean, people pay lots of money to have hair like ours! My hairdresser told me she'd have to combine like three different dyes to try and dye someone's hair my color. And Lindsey had it and she threw it away for generic ditzy blonde hair! Ugh, I hate popups. I have a bad computer but my mom has a laptop because she's a teacher, so I barely ever use the bad one. I do all my fics on the good one (it's called the Viper). But if I ever need to use The Artist Formerly Known as Compy (the sucky one), there's like a million popups.

**Gidget89**: You read all the responses? That's so cool! Sometimes I think, "Wouldn't it be cool if people did that?" but then I go, don't be silly Hanna, no one would do that. But you do! And that's so great. I am happy. I really do like _Casablanca_I just thought Luke would be more preoccupied with Lorelai which would make the movie less appealing to him. Yeah, come on, Cheetos? Chee- for cheese, but what's the toes part? Oh my God. They make it out of toes. I've seen the light. Toes covered in cheese. Cheetos. Eating them will never be the same. Thanks for all the love.

**Jewels12:** I just read yours… love it. Dennis Quaid is pretty sexy now that you mention it. But it wasn't something I thought about when I was eight. I think half the reason I loved Lindsey when she was little was she had red hair. You know that little piece of hair in her face? I wanted that for about five years. I contemplated getting the scissors from the kitchen and doing it myself.

**Lukelaiandroryndean:** I _am_ special, babe. I loved the phone conversation too. And I could imagine the Luke's tightening jeans thing and Lorelai watching him. Here I am updating so I get another one of your reviews. Hoopah!

**Bloodymary:** For some reason when I read your review I started cracking up. You read the Anon thing and found the review and then agreed with me. I mean, seriously! Not about to rant about Anon because I already ranted about him up top and this A/N will become amazingly long if I keep repeating it. Damn guy got my story DELETED. I love my rants and bubbly personality too! Haha, self-appreciation month is always for me. Now here's the funny thing. In my title, Video Killed the Radio Star, I'm referring to the song entitled "Video Killed the Radio Star." It's not as in-depth as you'd think. I put what you said to Anon2 in my reply to him if that's okay. Oh and I saw you mention my ranting in **pOnDeReSqUe's** reviews (LOVE her, I left her a huge rambling review) and I just wanted to say ha! Thanks!

**Rusty Bedsprings**: No, keep calling me girly! I only hated it when I was little. And now that's you've stopped, I miss it. It's like… well, rice. You don't think about it that much. It's just rice, you know? But then once it's gone, you're like… I want rice. Hmm. That was a very bad simile. Forget that. Cartoons are a must, even as an adult. Not that I'd know because I'm not one. But when I am one I'm sure I'll still love cartoons. I love the Animaniacs. Ooh, I have a better simile! Okay, in 5th grade, we had to learn the presidents, and I had the Animaniacs video where they sang that song (that's the only way I aced that test, by the way, I totally would've failed if I didn't have it) so my music teacher asked for it so she could show that to the classes. And she didn't give it back for a really really long time and while I didn't have it I missed it like crazy. But I never thought about it when I had it. There, cartoon simile.

* * *

**Video Killed the Radio Star**

Chapter Trois: Forgotten Girl Scout Massacre

Lorelai stood with the phone glued to her ear, watching Luke settle onto the sofa and move around some of the food on the table. His flannel shirt was rolled up to his elbows and his forearmy muscles moved as he went about his business. Did forearmy muscles have a name? Or did people just call them 'those forearmy muscles right there on the forearm'? Did people besides her even refer to the forearmy muscles in any way at all? She wondered how simple forearmy muscles could look sexy as they moved a bowl of Cheetos. It wasn't the sexiest of actions but the forearmy muscles made it sexy. Okay, she needed to stop referring to the forearmy muscles as separate from the rest of Luke. Hmm. The rest of Luke.

"Okay, traditionally, when a person is on the phone, they actually have to do some talking."

Lorelai's eyes de-glazed and she yanked her head up. "Oh, no, sorry. She hung up. I… I like listening to that really long 'eeeeeeeh' noise when you hang up. It's very relaxing."

"I've always found loud, obnoxious noises stressing rather than relaxing, personally," voiced Luke.

Lorelai smiled and walked over to the sofa, her side brushing his as she sat down again. "Then your blood pressure must really rise whenever I'm around."

Luke thought of a different way that sentence could be construed and decided that, in a way she didn't mean, her comment was right. "Let's just eat dessert."

* * *

It was a little bit later and they had finally gotten through _Casablanca_ in its entirety. Lorelai and Luke were sitting side by side with their feet up on the table and a blanket draped over both of them. Lorelai threw the blanket off her and leapt up. "Okay, second movie. What do you suggest?"

Luke groaned. "I suggest not another moment of this torture you enjoy bestowing upon me."

"Hmm, don't have that one. Next time I'm in the video store I'll look for _Not Another Moment of This Torture you Enjoy Bestowing Upon Me_, though, sounds like a classic," she said. Lorelai kneeled down by her collection of movies and began searching through it. Now it was Luke's turn to watch Lorelai's pants… de-slacken… around the back. Her sweater inched up, revealing a few inches of skin on her back. Luke watched until Lorelai stood up. "What do we think of _Airplane_? The premise: it's a spoof of airplane movies and romance movies and stuff. This guy was in the Vietnam War and he crashed a plane and now he's scared of flying, and he's living in the past. His girlfriend, who's a flight attendant, leaves because he won't get out of the past, but he buys a ticket and gets on a plane for the first time in a long time to try and win her back. There's this epidemic and stuff, but anyway, the pilots all pass out and he has to land the plane. Filled with laughter and fabulous one-liners, including the unforgettable "Surely you can't be serious? I am serious, and don't call me Shirley," this movie is a sure winner with anyone who has even the smallest sense of humor. So?" She shook the DVD at him appealingly.

"Are you getting a cut on the advertising?" He sighed. "Sure, it sounds fine."

"Fine?" repeated Lorelai scathingly as she (to Luke's delight) bent down again to put the DVD in. "This is more than fine, my friend." She straightened out and walked over to the couch, plopping down on the sofa against Luke's arm, throwing her legs over Luke's on the table, and tossing the blanket back over both of them. "And now we press play."

The opening shots of the airport and the arguing intercom voices began to play over the screen. Lorelai was giggling and kept telling Luke to listen.

"I am listening."

"No, no, listen to the voices, it's so funny."

"Maybe I could listen a little better if you weren't blabbing so loud."

"Fine," Lorelai huffed, snuggling into Luke's side slightly. She began quoting the movie, deepening and lifting her voice on certain parts. _"Don't start in with your white zone sht again. There's just no stopping in a white zone. Oh really, Vernon, why pretend? We both know perfectly well what it is you're talking about. You want me to have an abortion. It's really the only sensible thing to do. If its done properly, therapeutically, there's no danger involved."_

"I assume you're going to be doing this the whole movie."

"You assume correctly."

Luke pretended to heave a sigh of disgruntled acceptance and leaned his head back. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Lorelai, sandwiched against his side with the weight of her legs heavy on him and her eyes sparkling with amusement. A few minutes later, Lorelai turned excitedly and grabbed his thigh under the blanket. "Ooh, I love this part, watch." She began to laugh as the ticketer handed Ted Striker a steaming ticket. "Heh, smoking." She raised her eyebrows at Luke. "Laugh, you."

Luke let out a half-hearted 'ha.'

"Well, it's a start." Lorelai faced the movie once more but left her hand on Luke's thigh, drumming her fingers on the denim and dragging her fingernails across it absentmindedly. Luke choked on his gallbladder, which had just traveled from his stomach to his throat in an impressive 1.2 seconds.

Breathing deeply. Breathing deeply. Not letting it get to you.

Lorelai turned to him. "Uh, are you okay? You sound like you just ran a ten-k. Or you're a dog."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm good. All's well. I just like to breath. You know? It's good for you. People don't do it enough these days. Not enough breathing going on."

Lorelai raised her eyebrows at him, a mischievous smile growing on her face. "I agree." She turned back to the movie and began rubbing his thigh, applying a little more pressure.

"Stop that?"

"Stop what?" questioned Lorelai innocently.

"That… thing you're doing," he replied, his voice slightly strangled.

"Try and be more vague, please."

"You know."

"No I don't."

"The thing, with the hand."

Lorelai smiled. "You mean this?" She slid her fingers a little towards the inseam of his pants.

"Y-y-yes," he snapped. "Stop it."

"Sorry. I didn't know you didn't like it."

"It's not that," he assured.

Lorelai narrowed her eyes a little at him. "What's happening with you and Nicole?"

"How did your mind get there?" asked Luke, exasperated slightly at the overwhelmity of Lorelai's randomness.

"Don't question my mind's ways."

"I never will again."

"Seriously, though. Are you guys getting divorced?"

Luke took a deep breath. "Nope."

Lorelai's face was the kind that you'd want to take a picture of and show to kindergarteners in a slideshow with the teacher saying, "This is what surprised looks like. Now let's move on to the emotion 'betrayed' as Jackson watches Sookie taste-testing another man's zucchini. No dirtiness intended there. You're too young for that anyway."

"You… you're not?" asked Lorelai, withdrawing her hand from Luke's leg.

"No, no, wait," replied Luke hurriedly. "We're not getting divorced because we already are divorced. I signed the final papers last night."

Lorelai relaxed instantly and tried to hide her relief. "Oh. Oh. Well then… I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

"Oh. I guess I'm not either then." She smiled at him.

Luke returned the smile gruffly. "It's just… well, I didn't love her. You know? It's better this way."

Lorelai paused there, fingering the fringe at the edge of the blanket quietly. "If you didn't love her then why did you get married?"

Luke heaved a sigh. "I'm not sure. It seemed like my only chance, kind of. Like a last resort. It's stupid."

"Yeah, it is stupid, Luke. Nicole's not your only chance." She put her hand back on his thigh comfortingly.

The corner of his mouth twitched at her. "I guess you're right."

"Well, I _am_ sorry you had to go through all that."

"Ah, that's okay. There's still good news."

Lorelai grinned. "You just saved a bunch of money on your car insurance by switching to Geico?"

"No. If I was still with Nicole, I probably wouldn't be sitting here watching this insane movie and seeing you rot your teeth out before me."

"You have this way of turning a compliment for me into something terrible-sounding," giggled Lorelai.

"Yeah, well, it's a gift." The smiles slowly left faces, and Lorelai and Luke just sat there, staring at each other. Suddenly Lorelai leaned in and buried her face in Luke's neck, winding her free arm around him. Luke breathed in her hair again, this time a little more freely, and shifted his arms to Lorelai's back. Lorelai's other hand was still on Luke's leg. They stayed like that for a few minutes, just breathing the feel of the other in their arms. Lorelai twiddled the hairs on the nape of Luke's neck in her fingers. Luke dragged his hand across Lorelai's back. He could feel Lorelai's breath on his neck.

Lorelai closed her eyes, intoxicated with his cologney-burgery smell. Only slightly aware of what she was doing, she pressed her lips to his neck. She felt Luke exhale deeply and she did it again, this time for a little longer. With Luke's encouragement, she began to kiss up his neck and his jaw. His blue eyes pierced through her own as she reached his face.

"What are we doing?" asked Lorelai softly, staring into his darkened eyes.

"What does it matter?" replied Luke, and he kissed her.

Lorelai folded her legs underneath herself, leaning into the kiss with soft moans. Her hands on his neck and thigh coaxed Luke down onto the sofa horizontally, and she lay on top of him. Luke's hands wandered all over Lorelai, relishing each second he touched her. The experience of making out like a teenager with Lorelai Gilmore, who was on top of him on her couch, was extremely surreal. That concept, and any other partially rational thought he might have been having, flew from his from his as her tongue slipped into his open mouth. Her moans began to mingle with his own.

And on the screen of the forgotten movie, the Girl Scout massacre continued.


	4. Nakedness Plus Daughter Equals Bad

_Attention all. Thanks to my dear, dear friend **Erica Bing**, the mystery of PDLD has been partially solved. According to her (let me assume you're a girl with a fetish for Chandler), it means _Punch Drunk Lover's Duo._ Now whatever that means, I just don't know. But hey, it's a start._

_And ALSO, apparently I was wrong about jumping to conclusions about **Anon**. She is really just a poor PMS-affected person like the rest of us, and I was very mean to her, and she didn't report me, and I've changed the a/n on chapter 1, and nobody else be mad at her anymore because I'm not. Yes, here I am, confessing I'm wrong. It's true. You're not dreaming._

_Some people have started reviewing telling me they don't like my a/n's and lashing out at readers. Well, I apologized to Anon about that, and I admit I really WAS mean. You can read my apology down there if you wanna hear me grovel in depth. But my a/n's don't break the guidelines, and I like them, and a lot of people do. So this is for me, and the people who like them. If you don't like them, you're allowed to skip them. Some of you said that they're going to make you stop reading altogether. I'm really sorry about that. I don't want you to do that. But I don't want to sacrifice my a/n's. If it is that big of a deal to you, you can, although I personally think you're making a big deal. It's not that hard to scroll down. I'm not saying this meanly, by the way, okay? These are just my thoughts on this. I'm sorry you hate me talking so much that you feel you need to stop reading._

Hey, **Anon**. Lookie here. Seriously, you'll love this. -takes deep breath- I'm sorry. Yeah, yeah, you heard right. –grumbles- I mean, although you were rather rude, and your review wasn't constructive or helpful, I can accept the PMS-induced haze thing. And I was kind of….hmm, snappish to you, to put it lightly. Alright, alright. I was mean. I'm sorry for being such a female-dog-type-person towards you. I was kind of in a bad mood and figured I'd take it out on a random person I didn't know. Also, I don't really get bad reviews, so you were a first for me- I'm kind of like a Veruca Salt in that aspect and I decided to throw a cyber fit at you for being the first to not give me what I want. Oh, and also sorry bout the rant about your name- Shakespeare was one awesome dude. Hopefully you'll accept my apology. Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

**Totalytvjunkie:** Do you realize that your review didn't include a single word about the content of my story? –attempts to gives stern glance- Oh well. That's the price I pay. But hey, now I know all about your amusing encounter with the red hair fetish lady. People like that freak me out. Like, people come up to me and are like, "Is that natural?" And I'm like, hello people! Look at how old I am! Except I guess I've seen people my age die their hair. But it annoys me. DON'T die your hair brown. You'll be just as bad as Lindsey! Oh, and this random lady in the office at my school that I have to go to whenever I leave school early or something- I've been there, like, a bunch of times, and every single time she says, 'Oh, my, you have gorgeous hair," like she's never seen it before! And I'm like…. Sucks you can't read till the 21st. After the 27th, I'm not updating until late August.

**Epona9009**: I miss my reviews. I get so many good ones. It's so sad they're gone. Rory-Finn is TOTALLY screwy. Hello, they don't even know each other! I love the repetitive-redundant line; my sister and I say that all the time.

**Suz22**: I would never think you an idiot for jumping up and down. In fact, once I skipped for at least 30 minutes straight- from the back of Six Flags to the front, waiting for the tram (that took a WHILE), actually skipping ON the tram (which made several people point and laugh- I told them they were obnoxious), and then all the way to the car. My friend told me I couldn't. Ha. Showed her. Okay okay, I'll go read your story.

**Lukelaiandroryndean**: Always the love, always the reviews, love the reviews, always.

**Krys33**: I love that you are working on long reviews. Do you know I've converted so many people into rambling reviewers? And they ramble only for mw? I have the power, my friend, and you WILL ramble. I agree that people don't laugh enough, and that is what I am simply trying to bring to the world. Laughter. I have such a large amount of wit and humor I feel it necessary to share. Public service, that's what this is. Don't thank me. It's my job.

**LLJunkie**: I do like Half-Baked, but I totally agree that it's not as good as you'd expect. It's a total letdown. Yep, they weren't together. This is a What in the World If? fic from episode 4-05. I love making references. And my Fort Lager line amused me too! You're the only one to mention that, and I thank you for it. LOVE the movie Airplane so much.

**FanOfLOST**: Squee is a cool noise. I know, the reruns are back where I have the DVD's… I have DVD's Season 1 2 and 3! But it reopened my fetish for Season 1! I guess they haven't sold the rights to Season 5 yet. I know, I can't believe they took away Gilmore Saturdays! I turned it on and was all, random movie! Who cares? Sporks are awesome. But I'd rather not be attacked with one. Totally watch the movies- Airplane is so amazingly funny, it's one of my favorites.

**pOnDeReSqUe: **I don't know if anyone's ever told you this, but you're cool. Blow the roof off the wazoo? You have no idea. I started laughing out loud. Wazoos don't have roofs. Video killed the radio star means that there was this star on radio shows and stuff but then, when they made video, radio was like SO last week and no one cared about radio and it was all 'video video video' and then the radio star lost work and the video had KILLED their career. Isn't that fun? I love writing these people, so I'm glad it's realistic! I love the two dollar-whore line. So great. But if I said it, people would be like, "…Who ARE you? You're too young to know what a whore is!" Which is, of course, not true in our changing age of MTV and sex coming out the wazoo. Heh, that's such a weird word. I can't wait for next review, when I get a proper, imaginative threat AND a proper, imaginative review. TCHAU! Fun!

**Rusty Bedsprings**: Don't insult the word choice of 13-year-old girls. I find it at times to be very eloquent, depending on the person. Periodic table. Sounds fun. I'd prefer puppies to a sex change, thank you very much.

**Gidget89**: Bipolar. That's very big nowadays. YES that's a Lorelai quote. –steams- I was funny this chapter? As in I wasn't last chapter? What's that supposed to mean? There, now I can be witty, because according to you, being mad makes me wittier. I wasn't actually that mad. I was kind of depressed the whole time I wrote that chapter. But I am perpetually witty, rain or shine. I don't think my emotions show when I write. I loved the vague line too, I put it in there because I wanted Lorelai to say it somewhere because I say it and I happened to have said it to someone online while I was writing this so it inspired me to put it in. Hey, I thought triceps were the ones right under your biceps.

**Orangesherbert7:** Whee! I remember, back in the day, when I was a review-shoutout-virgin. Heh, I'm your favorite author. And I have insight. And I'll feel my taters for you.

**Michelle**: Squeal! A whole email, just for me! Seriously, you need to stop with this praising NOW or I will become so conceited you have no idea. I'm practically in love with myself now. And you! You're so fantastic! I think we should totally form a religion around me. We can call it Hannaism or Muffinism or something totally awesome like that. And people can light candles and worship me. And give me lots of presents. Offerings, if you will, to the god of all things humorous and/or witty. That would be ME. I love writing these characters, so it's all the better I'm apparently good at it, isn't it? Writing Lorelai comes so easily to me, she reminds me of myself. Damn, I would've loved you going on about how wonderful I am for 10 pages. Now I have four thumbs (that's adding the two you gave me to the two I already had), five stars, and 10… point-things. Pretty good.

**Izzpuppy**: By the way, I totally love your bio thing. I ate the entire monster truck made of whipped cream. Of course, after I won the gold trophy thingy in the monster truck competition-like situation. Why don't you like to talk? It is the greatest pleasure in life. It rectifies all situations. My sister and dad and I were at dinner and they got into this huge fight. I was just sitting there, reading To Kill a Mockingbird as they screamed, and then, after many moons, they shut up. And I was like, "Hey, this is a morbid book, isn't it? The guy sticks scissors in his dad's leg." And they just stared. I'm totally making the movie _When Wet Noodles Attack_ – bloodcurdling scream – and I get to be the villain, running around attacking people with giant damp pasta. Today my parents told my sister she had to cut back on Coca Cola because it was making her less hungry. She's addicted. My dog's name is Ziggy Stardust. I can't believe you commented on everything in my A/N. I'd totally be awesome for "Kids Say the Darndest Things." Billy Cosby is so amusing in a scary way. I used Airplane just because I love that movie. Teenager Luke? He watch Butch Danes, of course, the lean, mean, tiny-short-wearing machine! I LOVED Fantastic Four. Johnny is SO AWESOME. Maybe because he reminds me of Jess. Ooh, insight.

**Jennalynn**: Ha. You're funny. You made me laugh. I hate those 12 chapter, plotless stories. I am amused by this.

* * *

**Video Killed the Radio Star**

Chapter Quatre: Nakedness Plus Daughter Equals Bad

You wouldn't think that on the couch there lay two mature, rational adults. You'd probably mistake them for two hormonal teenagers, the way they were pawing at each other with the kind of haste you'd find in a couple hoping that no unsuspecting parent would stumble in. Luke had reversed their position on the couch so Lorelai was beneath him. Both of his hands were up her shirt. His flannel had been discarded already. Lorelai had her hands shoved into Luke's back pockets, and they were kissing like the apocalypse was coming within the next hour.

Lorelai giggled into Luke's mouth. "Who knew that watching Girl Scouts slam each other into juke boxes would turn you on so much?"

Luke grunted. "It's always been a fetish of mine. If you dressed up in a Girl Scout outfit, I'd never let you out of this house." He began to bite and suck down her neck.

"Tell me if you're joking or not. Luke." Pause. "Luke…" Further questioning was postponed as Luke drew her shirt over her head, burying his face in her skin. She giggled. "That tickles."

"Shut up, please," came his muffled voice.

Lorelai placed both her hands on his t-shirt clad chest and pushed him upright. "I'm voting for a change in locale. Bedroom sound fine with you?"

"More than fine," assured Luke, drawing her off the sofa and kissing her. Steps were awkward as the heated couple staggered backwards, mouths meeting sloppily. Luke slid his hand across Lorelai's bare back, neatly unclasping the bra as he swept it back up.

Lorelai raised her eyebrows, impressed and surprised. "Smooth. Have you been practicing?" Lorelai slid her arms out of the bra and reconnected to Luke as if they were magnetized at the mouth. Her hand reached for his hat, yanking it off his head and placing it her own. Backwards, of course. It would be blasphemous to wear it any other way.

Luke reached for the button on her jeans but she slapped him away. "Hey, if you go any farther, we'll be doing it on the stairs, which is probably not the most comfortable thing," she laughed, her voice breathy. Lorelai pulled away from him and walked backwards up the stairs. "Fetch, boy," she said in a husky voice, grinning devilishly, and she disappeared into her bedroom.

Luke took a deep breath and tried to run up the stairs as quickly yet as nonchalantly as humanly possible. Didn't want her thinking he was too eager, like he had waited for this for 7 years or something.

* * *

Rory pulled her Prius into the driveway right behind Luke's truck. Ah, so the movie night was still going. She bet her mother had Luke tied to a chair with his eyelids glued open, forcing him to watch whatever movie she chose. She hoped it wasn't anything too painful, like _Sleepover_. God, that movie was terrible. They fell in love after he saw her once, skating past him in a red dress! They didn't even talk!

Stepping out of the car, Rory wrapped her coat around her more tightly as the cool night air hit her. She dug through her purse as she walked to the front door and struck gold when she heard the jingling of her keys around her fingers. Her mom had started locking it since she was gone. Pulling the keys out, she slipped them into the lock after a good amount of fumbling in the dark for the right one. Luke really needed to fix the porch light.

Rory pushed the door open and entered the hall. "Hello?" She continued into the living room. It was empty, but the movie was still playing. It was _Airplane_. The wonderful singing scene with the convulsing girl in the background was on. She glanced into the kitchen. No one. Maybe they'd just gone out for ice cream or something. But Lorelai would never leave a movie playing when she was gone. It was blasphemous.

Then she caught sight of something on the floor by the sofa. It was Luke's flannel. She turned around. Her mother's sweater. And, farther on, near the foot of the stairs, lay an object that confirmed her suspicions. Yep, that was the lacy black bra her mother had bought while they were on a crazed Victoria Secret shopping spree caused by a lack of caffeine in their systems.

Rory giggled. Luke and her mom were getting in on upstairs right at that very moment.

Rory frowned. Luke and her mom were getting in on upstairs right at that very moment.

To be in the house with spawning happening? This was very bad for her innocent psyche. A loud bump upstairs confirmed that. Rory winced. She tiptoed into her room and grabbed a blanket and a book, using of all her remaining brain power not being used performing that simple act to block out the terrible images beginning to form in her mind. Rory stepped out onto the porch as quietly as possible and relaxed on the porch steps, drawing the blanket around her. She opened the book, To Kill a Mockingbird, which she was currently rereading for about the 12th time. Her mind started to soften as she slipped into her book. She had just gotten to the glorious part about the story of Boo sticking scissors into his father's leg when, to her extreme horror, she heard a loud moan coming from the bedroom window.

"God, Mom _really_ needs to start closing her windows," Rory grumbled as the now-traumatized girl clutched her blanket and scuttled into her car, locking the doors and rolling up the windows. Just to be safe, she turned on her CD player, the sounds of the Cars playing loudly. Sound-proof. She let out a breath. "I'm going to need a shrink."

* * *

Luke leaned his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes. Lorelai had her head on his chest, and she was stroking his chest hair absentmindedly. The sheet was thrown haphazardly over their tangled legs. Luke's left arm was drawing soft patterns on the bare expanse of Lorelai's back. He stole a glance down at the back of the head on his chest.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking Arby's," replied Lorelai, lifting her head with a half smile.

"Lorelai…" he said warningly.

"Oh, I love it when you say my name like that, Butch. It just sends shivers down my spine."

"Lorelai…"

Lorelai wriggled over onto her stomach, resting her forearms (along with their forearmy muscles) on his chest. "I never pegged you as one of those contemplative after-sex guys."

He sighed. "I'm not. I was just wondering, that's all."

"Does Luke feel a little insecure about the aftermath of the amazing sex he just had with Lorelai?" She grabbed his face with her hands and made him nod. "Yes, he does. Poor Luke. He doesn't know how good he is."

Luke let a wry, half-smile escape from his mouth. "Oh, I know alright."

Lorelai raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Is Luke a little full of himself?" Forced nod. "Yes, he is."

"Isn't the after-sex conversation supposed to be deep and meaningful and sometimes soap-opera-like?"

"Not with me, buddy." She slipped her hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down for a short kiss.

"Okay, one last serious question." He froze slightly, thinking. "How are you feeling about this whole situation? You know, with you, and me, and… this? What just happened here."

Lorelai smiled. "You know what they say, Luke, if you're not mature enough to say the word then you're not ready to lay the bird."

"That's real poetic."

"Too afraid to speak it, it isn't time to freak it."

"Oh, come on now…"

"If the word won't leave your mouth, wait a while to travel south."

"You are something else, you know that?"

"Yes. I'm definitely not something. I'm obviously something _else_." She grinned, stroking his stubble. "And to answer your previous question…" She propped herself up on her elbows and shoved her mouth on his, pressing down onto him and tangling her tongue in his. His hand slid from her back down lower. Lorelai pulled away quite suddenly but stayed where she was, her breath ticking his mouth. "I am very much in agreement with our previous activities and hope to duplicate them at a later date." She kissed his nose quickly and leaned back. "Is that a sufficient response?"

"Define sufficient," replied Luke, kissing her shoulder several times.

Lorelai giggled. "You know, if you asked Rory that question- not that you and Rory would ever be in this situation- she would probably give you a dictionary definition. 'Acceptable, tolerable, adequate,'" she mocked. "Um, I don't know how else to describe that without getting out a real dictionary."

"Where is Rory tonight?" questioned Luke. "We never heard back from her after her call from her date."

Lorelai gasped and shot up. "She was supposed to come home! Do you think she did? What time is it?"

"Calm down. It hasn't been that long." He checked his watch. "It's just past midnight."

Lorelai leapt off the bed. "She told me she'd be back a little after 11." She made for the door. "I have to go see if she…"

"Lorelai, although I definitely love your present outfit, I'm not sure Rory will."

Lorelai looked down at herself. "Right. Nakedness plus daughter equals bad."

Luke smiled at her as she grabbed an oversized shirt from her bottom door frenziedly. "Since when did you get so good at math?"

"Oh, you know me, I'm a mathematician. Just call me… hmm, that reference would work if there were any famous mathematicians." She slipped on some underwear and a pair of shorts.

"What about Einstein?" questioned Luke.

"Well, he was a scientist and stuff, not just a mathematician. Galileo?"

"Astronomer. Archimedes?"

"Yes! That guy! Didn't he discover pi?"

"How should I know?"

"Well, you brought him up," reminded Lorelai, her hand on the doorknob.

"Well, you're supposed to be finding Rory."

"Oh! Rory! Right. Stay here, would ya? The equation of nakedness plus daughter equals bad still stands, and it's probably even worse for someone else's daughter." She disappeared out the door and down the stairs.

Lorelai peeked into the living room. The TV was still blaring to an invisible audience. It was near the end of the movie. Johnny leaped across the screen, screaming, "_The tower, the tower! Rapunzel, Rapunzel!"_ Although this line would usually elicit an extraordinary amount of laughter and a couple rewindings from Lorelai, she ignored the movie and moved on to her daughter's room, pushing the door open to find and empty bed. No note.

Lorelai quickly grabbed her coat from the hook and burst outside. There was her daughter's car, and there was her daughter. She ran up to the car door and knocked on the window energetically. Rory jumped and rolled down the window. "Well. Greetings. How may I help you?"

"Can I get a cheeseburger, some onion rings, and an explanation for your interesting sleeping arrangements, please?"

'I wasn't sleeping, I was reading."

"You know, the funny thing about that is that you have a perfectly good room inside filled with books. And it's not a gazillion below zero degrees in there! Huh! Go figure."

"Well, it's less traumatizing in here."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I walk into the house to see my mother's clothes scattered all over the floor. And thuds from upstairs. And a moan. Did I mention the moan? Because it wasn't very pleasant for me."

Lorelai stared. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. It just happened so fast, and I wasn't thinking about you- good thing too, because if I was thinking about you while having sex with Luke that'd be pretty weird, dontcha think?" Rory rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't know you'd be so uncomfortable with the idea of me and Luke." Lorelai's face, which had been at a definite 'perky' while with Luke, had drooped considerably. The thought of Rory not wanting her and Luke to be together might change, even damage, her and Luke's relationship.

Rory was quick to explain once she caught sight of the look of death on her mother's face. "Oh, no, I'm totally fine with you and Luke being together. I just don't want to actually be in the house while you two are… being together. If you get my drift."

Lorelai's face fell back into relief. "Wow. Okay. That's really good. Because… I really like Luke. Really. A lot."

"I like Luke too, Mom," grinned Rory. "You know, you two were pretty loud."

"Oh yeah?"

"It didn't help your windows were open. The town's gonna have a field day. I bet Babette heard the whole thing." Rory giggled. "She was probably cheering and egging you guys on. I bet she had binoculars. Do you think she'd think ahead enough to have a ready-loaded video camera nearby?"

"Wow. That's a disturbing thought and a real turn off," said Lorelai, making a face. "Come on, come back in the house. I promise, no more sex until you're gone." Rory closed the window again and got out of the car. Lorelai wrapped an arm around Rory's waist as they walked, and Rory mirrored the move. "So, tell me about your date."

Rory made a face. "Well…"

* * *

Although the sentiment is universal, I made up those three sayings about sex. – bows – Yes, yes, thank you, I know I'm a genius.

You know what? I've discovered a simply shocking statistic. Do you have any idea how many hits a story gets? And how little the amount of reviews pales in comparison? I mean, I know I get an unusually large amount of reviews, more than most, but just look at this statistic. Okay. Let's take my last story, Thank the Cavemen, for example. Now according to my hit-counting and review-counting thingy, I received 4198 hits. Yet only 160 reviews! That means that 26 percent of my readers reviewed. This is amazing, isn't it? So just take the time to drop a line. For any writer. We take the time to write chapters and whole fics, now don't we? We appreciate all you can give us, even if it's one word, and even if the word is 'fishsticks' or something. We appreciate you care enough to write 'fishsticks' out.


	5. Just Press Play, Dammit

_I am updating today in honor of the day my dear second-in-command, Jombles McFloobenheimen, was birthed. Jombles, known as Michelle to the less cool, is the creator of the new religion Hannaism. Hannaism is where we all worship me. We're still getting the details worked out, but so far, we have a Hanble, the book filled with rule sabotu worhipping me and fics and reviews and quotes and wit. My name, as the worshipee of the Hannaists, is Supreme Goddess of all Things Witty and/or Humorous. All the Hannaists must wear plaid, which is the official color of Hannaism (or maybe the colors are green, blue, and purple… or maybe the color is green, blue, and purple plaid. I don't really remember) and backwards baseball caps, except the cap is really a giant blueberry muffin with a brim. The muffin is partly because I'm Muffin and partly because you'll all look ridiculous. Anyone who wants to BECOME a Hannaist just review saying so and we'll add you to the list of me, Jombles, Izzpuppy, and hotplates23 who I don't know but Jombles added. Happy birthday, Jombles! Jombles is turning an impressive _hrmmrmmmam_ today. Send presents._

_Sorry this update took a bit longer than usual. For one, I was off having a life- well, sharing my MOTHER'S life. My social life has become tagging along with my mother while she has a social life. Two nights in a row I'm eating dinner with my mom's friends. But anyway, I've also been slightly at a loss of how to tie this story up. I seriously started singing to myself, "Where do we go from here? Why is the path unclear? Something something something we go hand in hand but we walk alone in fear!" And then I moved on to, "They got… the mustard… out!"_

_I think the world is divided into two different kinds of people- people who love my ranting and people who hate them. Which kind are you?_

_**1. rant-lovers (are extremely fantastic and deserve many cupcake points)**_

_**2. rant-haters (have very large and pointy sticks up their butts)**_

_Hey, you know I don't mean that. You know I just say stuff like that because I think I'm funny._

_You know what I've realized is cool in a weird way? People mention me in their reviews for other fics all the time. It makes me feel all tingly when I see my name somewhere that it usually isn't. The person's like "...ranting like Muffin…" and I'm like HEY that's me! I get to be one of those people you COMPARE stuff to! Like 'crazy like Charlie Manson' and 'freaky like Michael Jackson' and 'fat like Shamoo.' I'm right up there with an insane murderer, a high-voiced 80s pop icon found innocent for molesting small boys, and a large whale! If that's not awesome, then I just don't know what awesome is. So all those people who do that are COOL. Feel my love. Aw, geez, now that was extremely dirty._

_Okay, all of you as my reviewers have made my ego inflate to at least 127 times bigger that it previously was. I'm seriously in love with myself now. Every time I pass a mirror, I just want to jump myself. I mean, the only reason the shout outs are so long is that I get such fantabulous reviews. Practically ALL my reviews are long and rambling! I foster the ramblers, I have to REWARD the ramblers._

**Bloodymary2**: What's with the 'ow?' Am I so intelligent and witty that it pains you to write about? Like the sun is so powerful, you can't look straight at it. That's me. He's a total Greek god. Keep reviewing, because you make me love myself just a little bit more. I didn't even know it was possible.

**Fairest Gold**: Squeal! I made someone come out of their non-reviewing cage! I feel so special! Not a big rambler yet, ey? YET being the operative word. I'll transform you. I have the power. I've actually done it before- let me count- at least 6 times, I think it is. At least. By the end of this, your reviews will be a mile long…_guaranteed!_ Or your money back! Yes, you paid money. You know… the money… that you paid when… you know. Geez. Can we say 'short attention span?' Come on, everybody say it. I know we can. Just say the words, it's easy. There we go! I knew you could say it. Short attention span. It wasn't that difficult to say, now was it? Good job.

**Ruli**: Hello there. Watch as I acknowledge you.

**Beeba Baby**: Why should I do this? We email. Heh, I can't believe you actually WROTE OUT the email for me when you couldn't get to a computer. That makes me feel really special. Um, hey, oy with the being reasonable about the hits thing. I detest reason. Stop bringing into my life, Moist Meg! Bleh. Hate the word moist. I read this thing on the internet once that said girls hate that word more than guys. Interesting, no? I refuse to watch Catscratch because the cats scare me. They're freaky looking. But I've seen the promos. My mouth dropped to the floor and I really did scream, "WHAT?" when I heard about a review LONGER than mine! How DARE they! So went on over to your reviews to witness this travesty for myself. It was **Anwa!** Now, see, I really love **Anwa**. But how dare she do that! Hey, if you're reading- I'm appalled! Overshadowed by a student? Student surpasses teacher? Unacceptable! But she did mention me in the review, so my anger dims slightly. But, agh! The one stable thing in my life currently- I give the longest reviews- TAKEN from me! I need routine, dammit! I feel lost. I feel weak. Get the smelling salts.

**Kryss33**: I can't believe you actually wrote down what you wanted to say to me. That makes me feel so important. I'm important enough to be on real paper! Gah, I saw Sleepover at this sleepover birthday party. I kept yelling about how bad it was while we watched, like, "Hey! Did you SEE that? That's insane!" And everyone kept telling me to shut up. It was very sad. No one appreciated my brand of comedic mocking. Heh, when I'm in geometry next year, they're gonna be all, "Okay, so let's recap what you learned last year." And I'll be like… nakedness plus daughter equals bad. I'll be so popular. 2 percent review! No, no, no, this is not acceptable! Love the length is growing. Review length, that is, don't make this dirty. Keep working and I'll have another review-protégé to add to my already growing list. Two hands, my friend, not just one now. To count on, that is.

**Michelle **and** Egbert**: Although I am very good at math (tightens imaginary bow tie because bow ties are scary and I wouldn't be caught dead wearing a real one. Except, you know, I'd be dead, so I wouldn't have too big of a say in the decision if someone felt the need to put a bow tie on a random dead girl. Though why they'd feel that need, I don't know), I didn't trust that statistic with my own skills. But a calculator is always wrong if you type the wrong thing in- I got the right answer for a completely different question. I've always thought percentages above me, so I never remember how to do them. I sat there for about 20 minutes, not saying anything, with a pouting and pondering look on my face. Thinking. And then I was like, "Hey! They're right!" So, you're right. I apologize.

**Rusty my Rusty**: People need to STOP being reasonable about the hits thing. I don't want to factor REASON into this! That's no fun! Hmmm… how many puppies can I have? I want all the puppies in the world. But you get to feed them. I HATE feeding my dog. Ugh, and picking up the… excrement? So gross. Once I picked it up really quickly (in a BAG of course) and ran over to the trashcan but then it wasn't in the bag anymore. I think it fell out somewhere. Congratulations to the person who finds it, heh.

**Severien: **You know what, the thing is, I actually AM Lorelai. The TV was getting much too cramped for me, so I leapt OUT of it and began wandering around the real world. Of course, I'm only a few inches tall because I'm on TV, so I can't get a real job. That's why I volunteered to write these author's notes. I mean, I have to jump from key to key to write, so all of it takes days, but it's worth it.

**FanOfLOST**: Blasphemous is a fun word. You can bring up the reviewing, but do indeed give me credit for my brilliant observation. I'm thanking you on behalf of everyone for the cookies. They were very delicious.

**thePigster**: I've created many a rambler! You are another to add to my long and growing list. I love that episode too- but, of course, you forgot about the best part of that episode…naked Kirk. No, just kidding. I meant the kiss. Love the story about you cracking up. I made the most disgusted face when I read that. And then I imagined it in my head. And then I made an even more disgusted face. And then I was like, "Wow, awesome." Ugh, it haunts me day and night- what was the Loner protesting? GAH! We will never know.

**Izzpuppy**: Your reviews are insane because you review EVERYTHING including the a/n's and shout outs, which I find kind of disturbing but fantastic all the same. You know, you asked me if I wanted to know the release of Season 4 but then you never says it. But I know, anyway, it's September 27th, I think. I LOVE sticking my fingers in candle wax. People are like, what are you DOING? Love the line about you being my puppy I got instead of a sex change and relieving yourself on your computer chair. Skimpy little doodads. Heh. I love my sex lines. I'm so incredibly smart, you know? I just am. I'm so great.

**pOnDeReSqUe:** I'm so disappointed in current Rory. I'm with ya on the orange-juice-bee-field thing. What is a bee field? A field of bees? How do you contain the bees in the field without dismantling the natural environment with walls and stuff? Do bees like orange juice? Heh, pseudo-wazoo roof. I love my proper, imaginative comparison and threat. I enjoy my story VERY much. Oh, here come Jess and young Johnny. Hello, boys. Heh, Girl Scout Luke. I sadly HAVEN'T watched Rocky Horror, through no fault of my own! My dad and I rented it to watch and then, he just randomly decided I couldn't watch it. Ugh. And we watched part of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and then my parents decided I was too young for it! Halfway through! I'm like, you can't do that now! I'm interested! But I'm young, I have more time. I bet you're older than me. You've got years on me. How is a one dollar whore better? It's worse! You pay less, therefore you get less quality whorage. I'd go for a three, four, five dollar whore! Actually, I have no idea. You could be right. I don't really know anything about whores or their prices. I'm just assuming. And you know what they say when you assume.

**Anwa**: Wow, you had that movie night? That's crazy! It's like linked minds, man. I know I reference her ahead of time, I actually put that at the bottom. And I'm pretty sure it's Nicole. Wow, active anticipation with a death wish. That's not something you see everyday.

**Epona9009**: Why would you want to HELP telling me I'm good? I mean… stop it, you damned Epona! Why in the world are you PRAISING me? I don't want to hear this! Terrible, terrible girl! Now go eat. I wouldn't want to be held responsible for you dying of starvation or anything.

**Oywidapoodles**: Heh, thank you! You're so kind. I'll let you in on a little secret… the reason you're addicted to my stories is that I put drugs in the stories, underneath all the words, to make you keep coming back. You're not weird for loving the a/n's! You'd be weird if you DIDN'T, my friend. But I'm bias. I wrote the things. That would be very Outer Limits-y. My sister and I say that all the time. I took billing over Young Frankenstein. I'm honored.

**Lukelaiandroryndean**: I can't believe you didn't know that was a song! It's such a good song. And I saw you wrote 'Video Killed the Radio Star' on your AIM profile and I started laughing. Ooh, and I remember in omnia paratus!

**Lenina Crowne**: Too adorable and hilarious? Sorry, I'll try to cut back on that pesky cuteness and humor. Squick. Heh. It was supposed to be a squicky sort of a situation, but not too squicky, which is hopefully how it came across. I mean, I could've made her come in earlier while her bare-chested mom was making out with Luke! I'm NICE! She did have to come home sometime! I know I'm SO spoiled and I love it. But I work for the spoilage! It's because I ask people for long reviews, and then they see the people with long reviews getting rewarded with long shout outs on the fic, and people start leaving longer reviews and more reviews to get appreciated by me and it's just BRAINWASHING! I am proud. That was a satisfactory amount of wittiness, thank you.

_And thank you to all the people who reviewed saying 'fishsticks.' That would be **LLJunkie** (Write me a letter of recommendation for that writing job), **spreeaholic1,** **Krys33 **(I would laugh too. In fact, I did.), **LukeNlorelaifan,** **c, Bloomin Daisy, Izzpuppy, anna, sarah, Justmeforever, orangesherbert7 **(driver's ed…sounds like a party)**, scottjunkie**, **LittleGGLover**, and **politicaldonkey**. Now I told you'd I'd appreciate the fishsticks thing! I never lie. Oh, and by the way, that damaged cherry tree over there? All me. Good old George for taking the heat for me._

* * *

**Video Killed the Radio Star**

Chapter Cinq: Just Press Play, Dammit

The interesting pair entered through the Gilmore front door- Rory, clean and perfect in her date clothes, and Lorelai, with a giant t-shirt and a backwards baseball cap over her messy, tangled hair- with their arms around each other's waists. "And so it didn't matter at all. We just ended up on the same side again."

"I can't believe boys. They can't think without us. What would they do if women didn't exist?"

"Nothing, of course. They'd simply be helpless rodents. Not even rodents. Just little protozoan."

"Ooh, like on Xenon? That famous singer guy?"

"No, as in the bacterial organisms."

"My second guess." Rory was sitting at the kitchen table at this point while Lorelai made coffee.

"I hate this dating thing."

"Well, it gets easier," said Lorelai, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.

"I guess it's the only way, right?"

"Well, Luke says there's a gut thing. You know, you can tell instantly when you're comfortable around someone."

"Aw, you two crazy kids are already into the deep stuff and you only just got together!"

Lorelai filled the mugs and put them on the table, taking a big sip. "I think it makes sense. Luke said he felt it with me." She attempted to push back the sappy smile growing on her face. "Go with that if all else fails." She stood up. "Hold on."

"Where are you going?"

"Let's just say that when I come back, I'll be one penny short."

"Ah, right," replied Rory knowingly. "Love the spin on colloquial British phrases." Lorelai grinned and disappeared around the wall.

Rory circled the mug with her fingers, feeling the warmth seep through the ceramic into her fingers. She took a big gulp while it was still hot, the coffee burning her tongue. Then there came thumping on the stairs. "Lorelai?" Luke entered the kitchen wearing his tight gray undershirt and unzipped jeans with his blue plaid boxers showing through. "Oh, Rory," he said, nervously zipping up his jeans. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

Rory grinned. "So I heard you and Mom having wild sex upstairs."

"Not one for small talk, huh?" He sighed and sat down. He sat there for a few seconds, twisting his fingers around one another. "Look, Rory-" he started hesitantly.

Rory cut him off. "Luke, it's okay. I don't mind you guys being together. In fact, I think it's great. And even if I didn't, it's your and Mom's choice, not mine. I'm not a little kid anymore. But I happen to approve of the union. I just would rather not be around for the intimate details. There, I said it all. You can now leave without indulging in a large amount of meaningful conversation, which I know you hate."

Luke rose. "Thanks." Then he left the room, a wry half smile on his face.

Rory giggled as Lorelai came in. "What's so funny, honey?"

"Nothin', muffin. Just bonding with your boyfriend."

"Ah, yes, where is that delicious man?" She disappeared, coming back a few seconds later yanking the aforementioned man along, who was now wearing his flannel. Lorelai dragged her hand down the fabric. "Oh, I just love a man in uniform."

They both sat at the table. Lorelai made a face as she drank her coffee. "The java's cold, Rory."

"You guys are drinking coffee? It's 12:30." Stares. "In the morning." Raised eyebrows. "The time one usually sleeps, not hyping up their body with caffeine."

"Point, please?" demanded Lorelai, as she and Rory exchanged bemused glances.

"Why do I bother?" sighed Luke, leaning back in his chair.

"We don't know. We've been trying to make you see the error of your ways for years now," reminded Rory. She tilted back her head and downed the remaining coffee in her mug and stood. "I'm gonna get to bed now. Apparently making chit chat about urine mints to a random guy is pretty exhausting." She bent down and kissed her mom on the cheek, and, then, to their delight, kissed Luke quickly on the cheek too. "Night."

"Night."

"Night, babe."

The door closed and Lorelai turned to Luke. "So. Interesting evening."

"I can't believe Rory heard us," groaned Luke. "God, what a nightmare."

"Oh, relax, she's a big girl. Now, come on. Let's go. I want to do something with you."

"With Rory in the house? No way."

"Not that kind of thing. Boy, a little sex obsessed, aren't we?" Lorelai grabbed his hand and pulled him into the living room.

"I seem to recall that we were in the middle of something before we got… in the middle of something else."

"After all this, you still want to finish the movie?" asked Luke, incredulous.

"Of course. Sex is dandy, but there's nothing more satisfying that watching a good movie." He raised his eyebrows at her. "Fine, maybe not, but with Rory here, a movie is the best option. Unless you want to learn how to polka in 7 easy steps. I have a book."

"On second thought, the movie is perfect." They both sat down on the sofa in the same positions as earlier- legs on the table, Luke's arm on the back of the sofa, the blanket over both of them. Lorelai went back to the menu and found where they were before, the girl scouts lying on a smashed table.

Lorelai smiled. "You know, you're allowed to drop that arm now. I won't ninja kick you."

"And you would have before?"

"There is a distinct possibility," said Lorelai. Luke shifted his arm down over her shoulder. "Much better." She turned and pecked Luke quickly on the lips once. Twice. Then she stayed there, her hand rubbing along the stubble of his cheek as they kissed.

"I thought you wanted to watch the movie," said Luke, pulling back a little.

"Movie?" questioned Lorelai, sucking on his ear.

"Yeah, movie… you know, moving pictures… in a particular order… that make a story. Or something amusing to watch." The words evaded him as Lorelai nibbled on his ear.

"Doesn't seem familiar."

"Actors… directors… cameras… scripts… ridiculously large salaries… box office…" He took a breath, the feeling of Lorelai's tongue in his ear slightly distracting. "Planes crashing into windows… people playing the piano... Elaine…"

Lorelai pulled back with a gasp. "You're taking about another woman while we kiss? Who is this Elaine?"

Luke sighed. "Forget it. Carry on."

"Carry on? Romantic," said Lorelai. "You've turned me off now. You're too late."

"Aw, come on."

"Sorry. The plane has flown and you weren't on it. You're at the bus stop but the bus left without you. The match you're attempting to light is underwater. Now we have to watch the movie."

"Ah, so you've heard of those before."

Lorelai rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling into his side, and pressed play.

A few seconds later, the movie paused and Lorelai's voice came. "Luke?"

"I knew you couldn't go for so long without talking."

"Will you go on a date with me?" She sounded nervous.

Luke was surprised, silent for a few seconds. Then he spoke. "I never thought I'd see the day where _you_ asked me that."

"Offer an answer, please, you make a girl nervous when you answer a yes or no question with a cryptic and wordy response."

Luke smiled and kissed her head quickly. "Yes, Lorelai, I will go on a date with you." He savored the feel of the words in his mouth.

"Well. Good." Lorelai scratched his thigh with her hand and pressed play again- then pause again very suddenly.

"What now?" asked Luke, exasperated lightly (but not much, due to the fact that Lorelai Gilmore had just asked _him_ out).

"Is my hand allowed to be here now?"

Luke smiled. Geez, he was doing that a lot tonight. "I insist upon it."

Lorelai grinned. "I was hoping that was the new answer." She slid her hand towards the inseam and pressed play on the remote again. No, not dirty.

They watched the movie in silence for a few minutes. As Elaine danced with a dying sailor, Lorelai paused the movie again.

"Do you want me to _take_ that remote away from you?"

Lorelai grinned. "Hands off, buddy. I can't watch anything without having control over the remote."

"So you can stop the movie every five seconds for no apparent reason, just to annoy me?"

"No. I have something to say. Though the irritating you is a bonus."

"What do you want to say, Lorelai?" said Luke with a sigh.

"This is nice."

"This as in the movie?"

"This as in this. Us," replied Lorelai, motioning between them,

Luke internally scolded himself as yet another goofy smile appeared on his face. Lorelai mirrored his grin and pressed play again. A second later, Luke reached over to Lorelai's hand and pressed pause. "Lorelai?"

Lorelai turned with an enraged look on her face. "Luke! I am attempting to watch a movie. You are now officially interrupting my movie watching flow."

"This is nice," he admitted gruffly.

Lorelai smiled up at him, eyes glowing, and settled into his side. "I'm glad we agree."

* * *

So, there ya have it, folks. Fic number three brought to an end. I know there will be a lot of tears shed, but don't fret, dearies. I might be back. Either a short fic in the next twelve days, or some one shots. Or a whole lot of nothing until the end of August. Don't be shy about leaving reviews even though that the story's over, I appreciate them just as much as any other review, perhaps even more. And you'll get rewarded, I transfer shout outs from fic to fic. And it seems I was wrong about the statistics… it's not even 26, which is terrible. It's more like 3.8! Even sadder! (Thank you, **Egbert.**) So drop a line for every fic you read. We still love fishsticks. Say fishsticks to some other random writer. They won't understand. All the better. We like confusing people, don't we. Yes. We do. Anyways, fishsticks or not, I must be going. Try not to miss me too dreadfully. Oh, what the heck, miss me as much as you want. 


End file.
